


this isn't about you

by LittleBlackGoldfish



Series: Peace Between Us [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 10:04:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18826444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleBlackGoldfish/pseuds/LittleBlackGoldfish
Summary: It's coming to an end, but first Arya is going to be nosy.





	this isn't about you

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of verbal abuse.

The cool sea breeze that whispered across Arya's back from the open balcony door was a welcome relief, wicking away sweat and heat alike with nothing but a whiff of salted air. For a moment she languished in the deep sense of exhausted contentedness, but with a glance to her partner the feeling evaporated quicker than the sweat crawling along her skin. Long white locks flowed down across skin nearly as pale, covering her nakedness just enough to be simultaneously alluring and infuriating. Meanwhile violet eyes stared intently on the glowing screen of her phone as her fingers tapped out some message with a ferocity that would not have been amiss three minutes ago.

Part of her tensed and a series of curses rested just on the tip of her tongue, but Arya bit them all back. Neither of them had ever pretended the thing between them was anything more than physical and it was hardly unexpected that Dany liked to receive a lot more than she liked to give. Arya was willing to forgive her that, Dany was hot enough of it was almost rewarding enough of its own.

Or at least it had been. But the thrill of it had gone out over time, even as infrequent as their encounters had been.

Just as well then that Arya had already decided this would be the last time they got together like this, and Dany's current distraction only served to highlight the reason. When the two of them had first come together it had taken longer than a couple of minutes for Daenerys to grow distracted after they, or more realistically Arya, had finished. Clearly she was growing bored and would likely end their arrangement soon enough on her own, it had the reek of something like a pattern and Arya didn't feel like fitting into it.

She'd leave it a few more minutes though, Dany's hotel bed was incredibly comfortable. And if it was time to end their relationships, well then Arya might as well go for broke and get something else out of the whole deal as well; for all her faults Daenerys was incredibly successful, her business Zaldrihar had been a going well for at least a decade. Given she was still only in her early thirties Arya figured she had to be brilliant.

"You have a brother right?" she asked from where she lay, head turned to face Dany.

"Hmm," was all that came out at first, as Dany's fingers still moved rapidly across her phone intensely.

Raising her voice she repeated the question, "You have a brother right?"

Dany dropped her phone and turned to lock eyes with Arya then and let the silence stretch between them until it was a brittle bridge of ice for a long moment. It was easy enough to see the concern flicking across her face, a dozen tiny twitches as her violet eyes bore into Arya searchingly, until at long last she opens her mouth, "Yes?"

It's as much a question as an answer.

"Do you get along with him?" she asked.

Arya might have put the question to any of a dozen other people, plenty of the troupe had siblings and she other friends besides who had siblings as well, but it felt safer somehow to ask Daenerys. There was nothing between them and the other woman didn't know her family at all, nor was Dany likely to care enough particularly to pry about specifics and make Arya talk to much about emotions and feelings.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," Dany said, drawing away just a bit with a set to her shoulders that told Arya she was suspicious.

That was Dany all over, always looking for hidden motives in people that most of the time didn't exist. Granted this time she was right, but they had nothing at all to do with anything she cared about, Arya was just looking for a frame of reference; things with Sansa had left off well, but now the moment had passed it was hard to tell where they stood.

"You know I'm not looking to undercut your authority, not looking to tell dirty stories to some gossip, or looking for anything more than this," and soon enough not even that. "I was just wondering is all."

Another long moment passed, during which Daenerys seemed not to blink, simply held Arya's own gaze.

"This is a sudden interest," Dany said slowly.

Arya wanted to roll her eyes, but that would only raise her hackles higher.

"Went back home, two weeks ago now, made me curious," she said, then sighed and turned away. "Look, tell me or don't, but stop giving me that look."

"What look?" Dany asked, surprise clear in her voice.

This time, with her face safely hidden form view, Arya did roll her eyes, "Like you're trying to figure out how I'm screwing you."

It was hardly a secret, how Daenerys got along with her older brother, and maybe that told Arya enough on its own, but what she wanted wasn't the tabloid view of everything full of second-hand accounts and speculation from a thousand miles different. Rather she wanted to know what if felt like to hate and love someone in equal measure, to know if she could trust her own memories or if it was better to let go if you could. Did Dany ever wish her brothers, either of them, were whole and sound? That she could curl up in their arms and cry until every ounce of her was drained of it all?

Perhaps there was no comparing their issues, one a mass of petty rivalries and childhood hurts the other a cycle of abuse barely escaped that had nearly broken more than one family in its death throes. Maybe it wasn't fair of Arya to ask. But then again, she had more right than most to wonder; the Starks had suffered nearly as much in Aerys Targaryen's waning days as his own family had. It might not be provable but the man's paranoia had almost certainly been responsible for the fire that had taken her uncle and grandfather's lives and the older of Dany's brothers had done plenty of damage to Aunt Lyanna.

Of course that would bring everything between them to the fore and frankly that was more baggage than Arya was looking to shoulder at the moment. Their family histories had never come up before, though given her name was printed boldly and in full on virtually all the troupe's advertisements Daenerys must have known when she sought Arya out.

So, rather than pressing, she waited.

It took a bit but eventually she felt Dany relax besides her and another silence lapsed between them; this one dragged on until Arya had almost made up her mind to let it go and put their entire affair to an end. But then there was a soft sight beside her and the bed jostled slightly as she readjusted, sitting up.

"Brothers," Daenerys said, and even if Arya hadn't heard the brittleness in her voice she still wouldn't have interrupted. "I have two brothers, though only one I ever knew. The other, well, I was born after he… well I never really met him. Viserys, though, we grew up together in Braavos first then Pentos after my mother left my father."

Pain lingers in every word, and a strange sort of longing too, that Dany speaks. She listens, careful not to move or disturb the other woman as she speaks.

"The things she used to tell us about _him_ , well I'm glad she left when she did," a shudder ran down Dany's body and she briefly shut her eyes. "Frankly, the worst people say about my father in public is nothing to the things mother told us, so I can well believe the things they say about Rhaegar too."

Arya grew up hearing stories of Mad Aerys Targaryen, not from her parents lips, but from friends and television and whispered conversations she stumbled on. Given her own father's hand in getting the man institutionalized and the suspected nature of his involvement in her grandfather's and uncle's deaths it was a natural topic of conversation when people thought her family was out of earshot. It was only years later, during her brief stint at uni that Arya bothered to learn anything more in depth and she could well believe that the man had done terrible things to his own wife.

Still she didn't interrupt, the entire point of this was to let Dany speak, to listen to her. If she interrupted now Arya doubted she'd ever get the woman to get started again, especially not if she broke off their affair tonight.

"Viserys was never like any of that, despite what people say, and when we were growing up he was my world," a smile graced her lips and the corners of her eyes crinkled. "Tucked me in most nights, took me everywhere and told me all the best stories about our ancestors; which was, in the end, his trouble."

The smile disappeared then, replaced by a frown that was more saddened than anything else. In the moment Arya had the distinct impression Dany pitied her brother more than anything else.

"He could never forget the slights he perceived others had visited on our family, couldn't bear the lost prestige and respect of what he called our 'exile' from 'his' Seven Kingdoms. Nevermind that a Targaryen hadn't sat as King for centuries and that our mother had fled from our _father_ before anyone had put him into a cage," Dany looked at Arya for the first time since she'd started talking and gave out a long sigh.

What Daenerys saw when she looked at Arya she didn't know; a silly girl running from her problems, a toy to be played with and then set aside, just another tool to use for her own ends? There was so very little Arya really knew about who Dany was, so very little the other woman let her in on about her life.

Quite honestly this was one of the deepest conversations they'd ever had, at least without either of them being drunk.

"Sometimes he would get angry over the slightest thing. A boy in my class touching my arm for too long, lights in a room being left on, mail not being delivered properly, a thousand things could set him," Dany said, once again gaining that distant look to her eyes as her gaze drifted away from Arya. "He called it 'waking the dragon.' "

At that she laughed, not joyfully or with any real mirth, but mockingly and derisively. It did sound more than a little ridiculous to Arya's ears as well, anger was anger and no ones was any more special than anyone else's.

"If Viserys ever repeated the phrase in front of mother she would get this frightened, distant look; I think our father might have said it too. He never hit me," she added quickly, defensively. "But he would say awful, truly honestly vile, things."

Dany's face fell at that, tears twinkling at the edges of her eyes and she grew silent for several minutes. From her own relationships with her brothers and sisters it didn't seem so strange, siblings said awful things to one another sometimes.

Was that really what had damaged Daenerys' and Viserys' relationship enough that the tabloids from the free cities to the bay of Ghis talked of it even years later? It hardly seemed so bad. So Arya asked.

"Is that why you don't see him?" she asked, as quietly and softly as she she could manage.

Dany simply laughed, this one a happier sound that seems to contain actual joy within it, and so said, "No, he always apologized afterwards, though that would hardly stop him the next time. Were that it, I might still see him. Occasionally."

Arya had only ever felt similar about Sansa, and that had taken a lot more than just the occasional harsh word. Even now it was hard for her to let go, worse in some ways since they'd reconciled a bit at Robb's wedding; before Arya had mostly managed to bury her feelings enough that things only boiled over sometimes when she was tired or stressed and something reminded her of Sansa.

But, now.

Now she could hardly go days without thinking of her sister, sometimes it was as simple as finding something she thought Sansa would like or a joke Arya thought she would find funny. Other times all her old anger and guilt and shame would bubble up out of the pits she'd buried them in and she could hardly think of Sansa without shaking.

"Instead I take special care that he's not around when I visit mother," Dany continued. "Whatever is between you and your family, I can't tell you whether you should forgive them or not-"

She would hardly have expected her to, or accepted the advice in any case if Daenerys had offered; Arya always hated it when people told her what to do. Unless it had to do with choreography, but that was different.

"But," the older woman said. "I will say is that you don't get to pick your family; for good or ill. You don't owe them anything, but they become a part of you before you even have a proper notion of who you are and no matter where you go or what you do that will always be true."

Hardly very helpful so far as advice went, at least in Arya's opinion. True as it might be it also wasn't something she'd needed to be told and it was far from what she'd been looking for when she'd posed to question to Dany. Not that that was unexpected, the woman hardly volunteered anything most of the time and their relationship wasn't exactly particularly deep.

Mostly Arya liked fucking gorgeous women and Daenerys seemed to like receiving orgasms, they'd never even talked about why she sought out Arya in the first place. Whatever fantasies or kink Dany was working out with her, they remained very much locked up in that silver crowned head of hers. Which was why the entire thing had to end, casual sex Arya would be fine with but she liked it better when it was with friends.

It was clear she and Dany were never going to be that.

Sighing Arya push herself up from the comfort of the truly decadent hotel mattress, cracking her back in the process, and then flipped over before sitting up fully. Glancing around she scanned the rest of the room in search of her clothes and found them where she must have tossed them when she came in earlier that night, crumpled in the white armchair by near the balcony.

"Well, " she said, padding over to get dressed. "I should get going. Early start tomorrow."

A beat of silence followed and Arya held onto the hope for a moment that Dany would simply let her go, that this could be painless. Next time she came calling Arya would just say no and there wouldn't have to be an drama or confrontation.

"All right," came Dany's voice, clearly confused; one round usually wasn't enough for either of them.

Then as if in afterthought, "Friday then, I'll have a car sent to pick you."

Tapping fingers told Arya that she was already entering a reminder into her calendar and the rustle of sheets made it clear she hadn't even moved from her comfortable position. Probably hadn't even looked up.

Well then there was nothing for it but to do things the hard way, Arya plucked up her courage and turned around. She'd only managed to get her pants and underwear on and was only getting one arm through the button up shirt she'd worn on the way over, no bra because well things had been easier that way and her jacket hid everything anyways, when she said it.

"No," she tried softening the blow by making the word come out as casual as she could manage, but it still sounded overly harsh to Arya's ears.

After a moment Daenerys looked up, shock registering across her features as she took in Arya's words and eyes searching out Arya's own. Confusion warred across her face, her eyebrows crunching up in the middle of her forehead as she regarded Arya with an uncomprehending stare.

"I won't be back in town for at least three months, after saturday," Dany was saying a moment with only a small hint of petulance.

"Uh, no," Arya corrected. "I mean that I don't think we should see each other anymore. At least, not like this."

That really seemed to throw Dany through a loop. Unless Arya had really missed her guess it was probably the first time the other woman hadn't been the one doing the breaking up, or at least it must have been years and years since she'd experienced it. Tempted as she was to laugh at the stupefied expression on Daenerys' face, Arya tamped down on the urge though.

It wasn't likely to be helpful.

Her confusion, her uncertainty, gave way an instant later; soft relaxed features melting into cold hard lines of porcelain. It was a fierce look indeed, mostly ruined by the fact that Arya was pretty sure she still had some of Dany's juices drying on her face.

Maybe she should've taken a shower first.

Forethought had never been something she could claim to practice all that well, gods new that her family had lamented that fact often enough. Nothing to be done of it now.

"If you tell anyone-" Dany's voice was steeled like she imagined it might be in the boardrooms of her company.

In a way it was like the voice father used, but harsher, then again Ned Stark was a large man, if not a giant, and Daenerys Targaryen was not. For all her power and presence she no towering figure, being only just a bit taller than Arya herself; who with her First Men heritage was not exactly reaching for any clouds. So yes the voice Dany used was harsher than the one her father might have, but it had the same clipped snapping precision.

Arya had been subject to that voice enough times in the past that she wasn't going about to be intimidated just because she'd never heard Daenerys use it. Letting her own face grow hard, she poured every ounce of disdain she had into the level stare she gave the other woman in that moment.

Dany snapped her mouth shut without finishing the threat that had been about to slip from her lips, so it at least seemed to work.

"Whatever experiences you've had in the past, remember that this is me breaking up with you," Arya said once it became clear Dany had thought better of her words. "Not that there's much to break up. We're really not anything to each other."

With her shirt on, Arya grabbed her jacked from the back of the chair and swung into it in a few smooth motions. Briefly she imagined how cool the action might have looked, having practiced it often enough she hoped it was pretty cool, but then tossed the thought away and gathered up her hair and twisted it into a loose bun.

Daenerys continued to regard her warily with an intense stare. Her entire posture had gone tense, as if she was anticipating the moment Arya would snap out and attack her like some wild animal. Gods, Arya wondered what exactly had made her so closed off. But it wasn't worth the effort, just like tonight every other attempt to draw the woman out had ended in only vague allusions and distraction.

"Listen," she said. "You were bound to get bored of me eventually, and there are honestly no hard feelings for me. We can even be friends if you want, you do have my number."

The nod she got in return was sharp, more of an acknowledgement than any sort of agreement. Arya simply shrugged, checked her pockets to make sure she had her wallet and keys, and then started for the door.

Something occurred to her as she reached the door and she hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not it was a good idea. Maybe it would just reopen old wounds or maybe she needed someone who'd already dealt with some of the shit she clearly hadn't. Eh, difficult to tell.

But it would be funny.

So, as she pulled the door open she looked back over her shoulder briefly and said, "Besides it would've been awkward eventually, I mean can you imagine it?"

Lilting her voice a little higher, like she imagined she'd sounded as a kid, Arya said, " 'Hey Jon, funny story I've been fucking your Aunt!' "

And off the look of renewed shock and confusion on Dany's face Arya closed the door laughing, in fact she laughed all the way down the hall and into the elevator. The really funny part was that she'd started off looking for some sort of touchstone for her own family troubles, and somehow ended up trying to give Daenerys her own.

Really, she'd already known she was going to make up with Sansa anyways.


End file.
